


Some Things We Don't Talk About

by Anonymous



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Sodomy Laws, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-24
Updated: 2011-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-23 00:37:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles wants Erik. Erik wants Charles. Neither of them is doing anything about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Things We Don't Talk About

> Wait! There's something that I want to say  
> Something that we hid away  
> Something that I'd like to change  
> These words have never left a mouth  
> We never got to get it out  
> Communication not allowed  
> Some things we don't talk about  
> -Wait, Take That

  


* * *

They’ve never said it, but it’s always there. Charles has been fascinated with Erik’s mind from the first time he’d felt the man’s presence in the water, but that’s just the surface of it. Erik is the most incredible man he’s ever met. He’s flawed and bitter and sharp and there’s a kind of feral wariness about him even when he is at rest, but underneath the fury and hurt, there is such a good soul; such potential for joy. Charles sees it in Erik’s grin when he pushes Sean so that the boy falls, only to catch himself with a cry of fear that quickly becomes a whoop of triumph. He sees it in Erik’s tears when he remembers lighting candles with his mother and turns the satellite. He even catches a glimpse of it in the intensity with which Erik plots Shaw’s death. If Erik could bring himself to direct that enthusiasm towards bringing the world peace instead of seeking violent revenge, Charles is convinced that the two of them could right the world’s wrongs. And sometimes, when Charles is alone at night, he sees the two of them standing together, hands intertwined, watching the progress of the younger mutants, or intimately tangled together in bed. He imagines them growing old together, as he can no longer imagine his life without Erik in it.

It could just be wishful thinking, but he thinks Erik has had similar thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he’s seen Erik watching him when he thinks Charles can’t see him. He dismissed it as a product of his imagination at first, but now it’s becoming a more frequent occurrence. Once, he even turned around and met Erik’s eyes. Erik had just kept on looking at him, far too proud to back down from the silent challenge. And now Charles is almost sure that Erik is not simply observing. Sometimes, late at night, when it’s just the two of them and the chessboard, Erik’s eyes will lose their habitual focused glint and in its place there is a soft-eyed gaze that makes Charles’ heart squeeze into his throat. It’s only there for a moment before Erik’s expression becomes guarded once again and then he moves a piece and the game continues. Still, Charles replays those moments behind closed eyelids until the memories are as worn as thin and soft as the pages of an often-read letter.

Charles wants so desperately to just project a pulse of feeling into Erik’s mind- to make Erik feel what he feels, but it’s a risk he isn’t willing to take. If he’s wrong, if Erik isn’t like him, then there will be hell to pay. It will destroy all the trust they’ve built, and Erik will leave the mansion, and Charles will never see him again… And that isn’t even the worst of it, because the threat of imprisonment and hard labor hangs over him. How would he unite mutants with the rest of humanity from behind bars? What would happen to Raven and the others without him? He’s ashamed to admit it, but his concerns aren’t all so noble. He’s afraid for his own well-being, too. When his mind gravitates to this train of thought, he cannot help but remember dark lines from The Ballad of Reading Gaol and he shudders and tries to put it all from his mind. On those nights, he sleeps little and restlessly and he wakes up wishing that he’d never read anything by Oscar Wilde. Even on those mornings, though, he can’t quite bring himself to wish he’d never met Erik.

He knows, too, that even if he’s right and Erik does return his feelings, Erik will never make the first move. Relations between men are dangerous, and Erik knows this better than anyone. The things that Erik has seen make Reading Gaol sound like paradise. Once or twice, when Erik has had particularly vivid nightmares that Charles can’t tune out, he’s caught snatches of those memories, those pink triangles amongst the yellow stars. He’s seen shriveled, gaunt faces and eyes first shimmering with fear, then clouded and empty. Erik will never be the first to speak because while Erik is a brave man, the bravest Charles has ever known, he is not a fool.

Instead of giving in to what they want, the two of them stay up late into the night, drinking Charles’ best wine and dancing around each other with those familiar wooden pawns and knights. Charles puts his hand on Erik’s shoulder and calls him “my friend” in his gentlest voice, and Erik smiles back at him and says “checkmate” and they start the game all over again. They talk about Alex’s improved aim, and the state of affairs in Russia. Charles tries to describe to Erik what it feels like to use Cerebro and Erik, in turn, attempts to find the words for the way different metals call to him. One night, they even discuss Shaw. They speak of everything except that, because even between such dear friends, _especially_ between such dear friends, some things cannot be said.


End file.
